


royal flush

by waspfactor



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gambling, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Organized Crime, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waspfactor/pseuds/waspfactor
Summary: you can make a lot of money if you know your way around a deck of cards
Comments: 13
Kudos: 55





	royal flush

**Author's Note:**

> angsty isogai again cos its too good. but this time with the nitty gritty
> 
> not dead but uni is pushing me hehehe

“Woah, Isogai. How can you shuffle cards so fast?”

A well-practiced smile. “Loads of practice.”

It’s enough of the truth.

* * *

His father dies when he’s thirteen. With his mother ill and siblings young, it’s Isogai who picks up the pieces that are left behind.

Money. Never enough of the stuff. It doesn’t grow on trees but Isogai wishes it did. He looks into part time jobs but the pay to work ratio doesn’t seem fair, not paying as much as Isogai wishes it did. It’s not enough to cover all the bills, not unless he drops out. He sits on the idea for a while, lets it simmer.

A few older students talk about a pack of cards. Isogai watches them from afar in the library as they take turns shuffling the deck. Their movements are slow.

“It’s a good way to make money.” One advises.

A nod of agreement. “If you know what you’re doing, that is.”

Cards are cheap enough which makes up for the subway fare that Isogai pays. Deck in hand, he finds himself in the backrooms of a seedy bar in the nice bit of town. The room is steeped in stagnant smoke and the lights take turns flickering on and off. He’s considerably younger than the other patrons (and a hell of a lot smaller) but he attends Kunugigoaka; everything in comparison is a cakewalk.

He sits down at a table with a free chair and places the deck on the table, a signal to be dealt in.

The dealer doesn’t look surprised. “Go home kid.”

Isogai swallows the lump in his throat. _No going back now._ “Deal me in.” And he sets down a note.

The dealer takes the money and gives Isogai a hand of cards.

Isogai loses the first game and it’s hard not to scream when he watches some middle-aged woman pocket _his_ money (her money now, Isogai supposes). It’s a challenge not to get caught up in the feeling of regret, the way his stomach twists. He balls his fists in the fabric of his trousers.

The dealer tries again. “Just go home.”

Isogai shakes his head. He’s came this far.

He wins the second game. And then the third and then the fourth.

But loses the fifth.

* * *

Game fifty-two. Isogai’s getting better.

“What’s your deal, kid,” The dealer asks, cards gracefully shuffling in his hands. “You speak fancy, and you dress nice, but you aren’t one of those private school kids, are ya?”

Deflect; don’t answer that. “I need money,” Isogai motions to the table. “This makes money.”

The dealer squints at him. “Money for what?”

“My family.”

A man who reeks of substandard spirits throws an arm over Isogai. He’s close enough to smell the man’s breath- it reeks of death. “A family man, aye? How _responsible._ ” He jokes, setting down a few notes.

Isogai wins game fifty-three. The man removes his arm.

* * *

“Aw, what the hell? A child?” A new patron protests. “What kinda- Nah. That’s fucked.”

Isogai doesn’t look at the newcomer but the dealer does, smiling. “He’s better than you.” He challenges.

The man disapprovingly flicks Isogai’s hair and it takes a lot of self-control to not bite the man. “Him? You’re joking.”

“Come find out.”

That makes game ninety-nine.

* * *

When he turns fourteen, he undergoes a bit of a growth spurt. He’s a little taller now, shoulders broader and a face little more defined.

The dealer notices it before he does. “You older now?”

Isogai shrugs. “Fourteen.”

“Hm.” Is all he says before starting the next round.

Game one hundred and seventeen. The dealer speaks again. “You want a way of making some extra cash?”

Isogai’s not one to say no to money.

After a few more games, with Isogai racking up more wins, he’s taken underground, in what is probably supposed to be a wine cellar. As they walk, the dealer sparks up a lighter, cigarette already in his mouth.

He extends the pack. Isogai takes one slowly, long used to the smoky environment. It burns like hell but Isogai doesn’t cough. He forces down the feeling and exhales fast, hoping that it wasn’t too obvious.

“Real smooth kid,” The dealer laughs. “Real smooth.”

They reach a door, one at the end of a long hallway. Isogai looks wearily to the dealer.

“Good thing with you is that you’re smart,” The dealer starts, leaning on the wall just next to the door. “You don’t bet what you don’t have, you don’t take what you can’t handle, you don’t say shit you can’t back.”

The dealer gives a light knock on the door. “Most people are dumb. Talk big games, drink an obscene amount of liquor. Worst thing they do is owe money they don’t have,” The man takes a long drag of a cigarette. His eyes are like steel, cool and sharp and _grey._ “You don’t want to owe me money.”

Isogai nods his head, slowly catching up in the conversation. He’s handed a baseball bat and is told to ‘go wild’.

The door opens.

The bat is raised.

* * *

Isogai should’ve expected this.

It’s late at night, with his mother and him budgeting what little they have to their name in the glow of a nearby streetlight. Even in the dim light, however, the bloodstain is obvious.

“Yuuma,” Her voice is weak, whittled down from illness. “There’s _blood_ on this note.”

Isogai tries to play it off. If he panics, it’ll make a thing. “Oh, yeah. One of the girls at work gave herself a papercut when she took it.” His heart is racing but he forces himself to keep an even tone.

His mother doesn’t look convinced, but she must know there’s nothing she can do. “You’d tell me if you were in trouble, yeah?”

She’s old and ill but not stupid. The grime under his fingernails, the hardened callouses on his hands, the dark marks under his eyes, the thinning hair- Isogai looks and feels like a crime scene. Something obviously is _up_ and Isogai just hopes she assumes its trouble at school, rather than the illegal poker ring he’s in.

So Isogai just nods, hides behind a mask of practiced bashfulness and charm. “Of course.”

* * *

He’s taught how to fight when the baseball bat eventually shatters. Turns out he’s good at it. Good coordination, light on his feet. His punch leaves a lot to be desired, but his kick isn’t anything to laugh at.

He’s no longer on ‘door duty’ and he no longer does drug runs. He’s outgrown the child he used to be, is no longer sheltered from the meat and potatoes of the whole operation.

The dealer (‘The Spider’ as he’s referred to by older patrons of the club) hands Isogai the deck of cards. It feels like lead in Isogai’s hands.

“You deal.”

* * *

He’s sent down to E Class when an ‘anonymous source’ reports him for working. Either the principal doesn’t know the truth or he’s just a very good actor.

As Isogai leaves the principal’s office, Asano is there, tapping his foot repeatedly off the newly cleaned floor.

“You know,” He starts in that voice that screams trouble. “You were _going_ to be reported for, ah, what’s the term,” He pretends to forget what word he’s looking for. “Ah yes. _Gang affiliations_.”

Affiliations? Hardly. It’s just the odd job here and there. Isogai’s jaw tightens, smart enough that he shouldn’t be speaking to Asano about this. “I was caught working my job.” He lies, tone icy.

“Your job doesn’t have a bright future in store for you.”

“It’s not my future.”

Asano smiles at Isogai rising to the bait he set out. “Now that you’re in E Class, it just might be,” He spins on his heels and walks off. “See you later, Isogai.”

* * *

He’s just about to enter his third year of junior high when a gun gets pulled on him in game three hundred and sixty-four.

It’s some disgruntled office worker who forgot how to play poker as well. God knows where he got the thing. Isogai stays rooted to the spot, doesn’t dare move as the Spider pulls out _his_ gun and that sets off a chain reaction of nearly every other patron brandishing a weapon of some sort.

Isogai takes in a deep breath and stands as much ground one can when there’s a gun in their face. The man is clearly a coward, given the way his hands shake, given the fact that Isogai is a child.

The man is too drunk to notice someone sneaking up behind him, a chair in hand. It splinters over the man’s head and his unconscious body gets dragged away, down those dark stairs.

At the end of the session, not quite night-time and not quite morning either, the Spider lights Isogai a cigarette. There’s a wicked grin on his face and Isogai has a feeling what coming next.

“Door duty for ya.”

* * *

It’s a rainy day so they stay inside for lunch break. Isogai pokes at his food, not really hungry and also very bored. He flicks idly at the anti-sensei knife he’s been issued.

Maehara places a pack of cards in front of him, breaking Isogai out of his trance.

“Can you teach me how to do that cool trick you do?”

Isogai’s gaze switches from Maehara to the cards. They’re stained yellow, fraying at their edges. He shakes his head.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://wasp-factor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/waspfactor) :))
> 
> okay cool im going back to bed


End file.
